The Guild of Fallen Clowns (12 page)

Maybe this is another test,
Alan
thought.
Father Harris didn’t say anything about facing my
fears. He only said, “just believe.”

In his mind, he rationalized his way out of
another encounter. He thought that in order to take control, all he
had to do was stand up for himself by not allowing Geno or Peepers
tell him what he had to do. He didn’t have to answer to them.

Who the hell do they think they are
ordering me around?
As long as it meant he wouldn’t have to go
into the Labyrinth and face Peepers, his thoughts empowered him to
a new level of internal defiance. The only downside was that he
might never be able to play his beloved Clown World game again,
because Peepers might be there. If only there were a way to take
out a restraining order on ghosts, he would finally be content.

From across the midway, Alan heard his name
being called out. The Ringmaster was waving him over to his booth.
Alan broke away from the crowd and went to see what The Ringmaster
wanted.

“Hey, Clown. I need your help. Sammy next
door had to take a leak. Nobody was there so I told him I would
keep an eye on his booth. Now I have customers and those two
delinquents are nosing around his booth. I think they’re looking
for an opportunity to steal something and I can’t watch them while
I’m taking care of things here. Could you just stand inside his
booth? With someone in there, they won’t steal any of the
prizes.”

Alan glanced over. Two mean-looking boys
hovered in front of the vacant booth. The Ringmaster was right.
They looked like they were up to something so Alan agreed.

The Ringmaster guided Alan between the tent
booths and told him he could access it from the rear. Alan headed
down the narrow passage and the boys slipped in behind him. As Alan
reached the back of the alleyway, the two boys along with a third
one were waiting for him. Alan turned to leave but was blocked and
surrounded by the thugs.

“What is this?” Alan said.

“This is an old-fashioned clown bashing,”
replied one of the boys, who looked to be the leader.

Before Alan could ask why, the leader
started the beating with a punch in the gut. Alan folded and fell
to the ground. The other boys joined in by kicking him as he curled
up in a fetal position to protect his face and midsection.

Looking on, The Ringmaster knew that T-Pot
broke his side of the agreement. The commotion happened too quickly
for any sort of negotiations with the clown. The shaking tent,
shouting aggressors, and moans from Alan also drew attention from
passing guests. It was too much for The Ringmaster. One of his
customers asked what was going on. The Ringmaster didn’t reply and
barked out to the crowd in an attempt to mask the sounds with his
own voice.

Ringmaster grew fearful that the beating
might be pinned on him. He decided to go for help and divert
suspicion from him. Leaving two active customers, he jumped over
the table and abandoned his position as he made a mad dash to the
ticket booth. Within seconds, he arrived, pounding on the side
door. Cracky turned to see him and opened the door.

“Cracky, you gotta come quick. They are
beating up the clown. They are hurting him.”

Cracky didn’t ask for an explanation. He
stepped out of the booth and ran past Ringmaster toward his booth.
As he got closer, he could see people stopping to look at the
swaying tent. He didn’t slow down as he passed between the tents
and tackled three of the five boys to the ground. T-Pot watched his
three friends disappear under the giant clown-faced meteor. He took
off over the back border fence with the other lucky hooligan tight
on his heels.

Cracky stood. The three boys remained on the
ground moaning from the unexpected collision. Alan peeked through
folded arms over his face and saw Cracky begin to pace beside the
twisted pile of teenage garbage.

“What da hell are you kids doing?” Cracky
said. “Get up!”

The boys slowly stood to their feet. Cracky
looked relieved that they all survived his blow and that they
didn’t appear to have any broken bones. Even though he was
justified in taking them down, he knew how bad this could go if
they decided to sue.

“Answer me, boys. What da hell is dis
about?”

“We’re sorry, mister.”

Cracky stared them down and said, “Don’t say
you’re sorry to me.” He looked down at Alan. “Hey Boogy, you okay,
pal? Did dey break anything?”

Alan carefully stood to his feet. He bent
down for his clown hat, shook out the dust, and put it on his
head.

“I’m okay—I guess. Why did you guys do this?
What did I do to you?”

“We’re really sorry, mister…clown. It wasn’t
our idea.”

Cracky wasn’t the type of person to dwell on
anything. The boys weren’t damaged and Boogy appeared to be in one
piece.

“Follow me, boys,” Cracky said as he stepped
toward the fence. They obeyed. Cracky lifted each one over the
fence. When the last one was over, he told them to pass the word to
the two that got away that he better not see them again. They
apologized again and ran away.

“You sure you’re okay, Boogy? Do ya think
you need to go home early?”

Alan was just a little bruised and said it
wasn’t necessary. Cracky returned to the ticket booth and Alan
brushed the straw and dust off his costume and headed back to his
position.

As he came out from between the tents, The
Ringmaster said, “I didn’t have anything to do with it. I was the
one who went to get Cracky to save you.”

“I never thought you did have anything to do
with it, Ringmaster. But thanks for getting Cracky.”

“Are you going to quit now? I mean, I’m
guessing you would want to quit in case those kids show up
again.”

Alan looked puzzled by The Ringmaster’s
logic.

“No, I’m not going to quit. Cracky told them
not to come back. I don’t think they will try it again.”

“Are you sure you want to take that chance?
What if Cracky isn’t around next time?” The Ringmaster said.

Alan thought The Ringmaster’s line of
questioning was bizarre. He just got roughed up by a gang of
teenage boys and the only thing this guy could think about was
whether or not he would quit. He didn’t wonder why they targeted
him or if Alan was okay. Then he remembered that The Ringmaster
viewed him as a contender for Geno’s job.

“Don’t worry, Ringmaster. I’m really not
interested in any other jobs around here. I live here, and I’m just
a temp while the carnival is in Riverside.” Alan didn’t wait for a
reply. He continued walking toward a group of young children.

The Ringmaster studied the clown as he
walked off. The words sounded sincere, but The Ringmaster squinted
his eyes and sneered before returning to a waiting customer.

*****

In the catwalk structure above the
Labyrinth, Geno climbed a metal ladder to a hatch in the roof.
Daylight temporarily filled the blackened control center as he
crawled out to the roof. From his elevated vantage point, he had a
view of the entire carnival. With his back to the carnival, he
searched the field and parking lot beyond the fence. Fifty yards
out, he spotted T-Pot and his gang hanging out by a large shade
tree. He turned and climbed back through the hatch into the
Labyrinth.

Behind the Labyrinth, a small garage door
rolled up. Geno exited and pulled a rope to close the door behind
him. He unlocked the back fence and left the carnival grounds.

*****

T-Pot circled the four boys lounging beneath
the tree.

“I still don’t know where that freak came
from,” T-Pot said.

“I know, TP! That guy came out of nowhere.
At least you didn’t get run over by him.”

T-Pot continued pacing, trying to figure out
what went wrong. “I’m fucking pissed because we barely got started.
I probably only got three good kicks in.”

“I hope you’re not planning to go back,
T-Pot. That giant with the clown face will kill us if we get caught
again.”

As T-Pot weighed his options, he noticed
Geno approaching.

“Hey, guys, look at this,” T-Pot said as
Geno closed the gap between them.

The boys stumbled to their feet. As the
chief of his tribe, T-Pot stood in front.

Geno slowed as he got closer to the group.
He looked directly at T-Pot and said, “I’m glad I found you.”

“Who the fuck are you?” T-Pot replied.

Geno stopped and smiled. “I saw what you
were doing to Boogy.”

“Who the fuck is Boogy?”

“The clown—the clown you guys were beating
on inside. I saw it all.”

T-Pot stepped to within inches of Geno’s
face. “Yeah, if you got a problem with it, we’ll fuck you up too,
freak!”

“No! No! No! I don’t have a problem with it.
Not at all. As a matter of fact, I thought it ended too soon.”

T-Pot stared into Geno’s dark eyes. Then he
looked to his left, then right as he shook his head in agreement.
“That’s what we was just talking about. We didn’t finish the
job.”

“Exactly, that’s why I’m here. I can help
you finish the job,” Geno said.

“Oh, wait a minute. Why are you guys all so
eager to help us fuck that guy up? First that freaky top hat guy
said he would get the clown over so we could pound him. Now you
come over offering to help us. Why don’t you do it yourself? Why do
you need us?”

“Very well,” Geno said as he began to turn.
“I thought you might be interested, but I can see that the big guy
scared you off. I’ll take care of it myself.”

“Hey, wait a second. We ain’t afraid of that
big fucker. He just caught us by surprise. He ambushed us.” T-Pot
pulled his knife from his pocket and flicked it open. “We’ll fuck
him up too, but first we want the other clown.”

Geno looked at T-Pot. “Are you saying you
want my help?”

“I’m listening,” T-Pot said.

“Okay, as you discovered, people will hear
you if you do it outside. They won’t hear you if you mess him up
inside the Labyrinth.”

“Whoa! You the guy in charge of that thing?”
T-Pot said.

“Yes, I’m in charge of it and I can make it
so you can make as much noise as needed and nobody will hear
it.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” T-Pot said as
he raised his knife to Geno’s throat. “Are you telling me you’re
the guy who dumped a bucket of piss on me?”
Geno’s eyes cautiously looked down at the knife against his
throat.

“Wait, that wasn’t my doing. I was on a
break. I
never
let them out. They never come out when I’m
around. You have to trust me. I’m the only one who can help you,”
Geno pleaded.

T-Pot lowered his knife.

“Are you saying those things were real?”

“Real? Well, yeah, sort of. They are spirits
trapped in the mirrors. I’m, eh, their master. When I’m there, they
won’t come out.”

“You better not be lying to me, freak! If we
see any clowns in there, I’ll—”

“He’ll kill you!” one of the boys shouted.
“He really will. You really don’t want to piss off T-Pot. He’ll cut
you. We’ve seen him do it.” He looked around the group. The other
boys nodded along with him.

“He’s right,” said T-Pot. “You better not be
screwing with us because it’s no joke. I’ll kill you.”

“Trust me! Boogy will be the only clown you
see in there,” Geno said.

The sun faded over the horizon. The carnival
was still bright from pole lights, flashing neon in every color,
and strings of lights outlining the attractions. With less than ten
minutes remaining before the place closed for the night, the line
for the Haunted Labyrinth of Mirrors dwindled to a handful of
diehard fans.

Earlier that afternoon, Alan convinced
himself to take a stand. He wouldn’t succumb to pressure from Geno
or Peepers. This was the second time that he talked himself out of
going inside the Labyrinth. This plan was stronger than his first
because it gave him complete control. He didn’t have to do anything
against his own will. He was feeling stronger already.

Although he felt empowered to stand up to
Geno, he thought it might be best to play it safe by staying out of
Geno’s sight. It was too early to leave, and he couldn’t risk being
noticed hanging out near the entrance waiting for quitting time to
arrive. His instructions were to work outside the Labyrinth.
However, as soon as Geno shut it down, he would call for Alan to
come inside. Alan didn’t know Geno. For all he knew, Geno might be
the type of person who wouldn’t take his decision very well. He
didn’t want to risk getting beat up again. Hiding was the logical
solution. Where to hide was the question. He had better figure it
out soon.

The clock was ticking and he became more
anxious with each passing minute. Lights gradually turned off
around him. He stood directly across from the Labyrinth and only a
handful of lingering guests remained. This was a bad place and Alan
knew Geno would confront him if he remained in that spot any
longer. To his right, he could see The Ringmaster exiting the
pathway from the Porta Potties.
That’s it
, he thought.
I’ll spend my last few minutes going to the bathroom.
It
wasn’t as if he’d be hiding out from Geno because he actually did
have to pee. He might as well do it before the drive home.

Without further consideration, he removed
his clown shoes and rushed to the Porta Potties. Nobody was around
and he still had about five minutes on the clock. He could take his
time and then head toward the front gates and leave. He thought
that he might even take the longer way to the exit so he wouldn’t
have to pass in front of the Labyrinth on the way to the front
gate. It was a perfect plan.

He stepped inside, placed his giant shoe
covers in the sink, latched the door, and started working himself
free of his costume. Before he was able to start relieving himself,
the structure started shaking. He could hear low whispering voices
outside the plastic walls. The unit was lifted off the ground. He
braced himself and called out, “Occupied!” The rocking continued
but he managed to pull his costume back on. By now it was obvious
that whoever it was outside had no intention of stopping. He
unlatched the door and pushed, but it wouldn’t open. He pushed a
few more times. When that failed, he shoved his shoulder into it.
Again, the door was blocked. He was trapped inside. While the
activity outside was extremely disconcerting, it was the sloshing
of a full day’s worth of human waste inside the toilet between his
legs that posed a potentially more disturbing outcome.